Thursday, June 30, 2005

I had a conversation last night with Pretty Miss Lisa about my enormous right boob. It's quite a bit larger than the left one. That's, uhm, my left.

In my profile, I mention how much I hate my boobs. It's really just the one boob I'm not fond of. I have no hard feelings toward the other, more perky, less troublesome boob.

I'm surprised I haven't written about it until now. Maybe because it's been bothering me a whole lot more lately.

Unlike the majority of women my age, I can't wear cute tube tops or anything without a bra. A strapless bra is an extra challenge and requires severe padding and half a role of double sided tape. This makes the summer extra challenging. I won't even dwell on the bathing suit scene. Let's just say I've spent many a Saturday afternoon pouring over bathing suits in the fitting rooms at Macy's only to leave empty handed, my face streaked with mascara.

So, I've decided after speaking with Pretty Miss about this that, once the new health insurance kicks in in November (yes, that long), I am going to meet with a plastic surgeon and get this taken care of.

I'm not a vain person, but I'd like to look cute in something strapless. Just once.

"I don't hate you."A direct quote from The Doll after I broke the bad news. How professional of him.

I gave my notice today here at Meaningless Advertising Company #1 and was met with great disdain. The Doll looked as if he would either cry, scream, throw up or do all of those things at once. Then he attempted to get out of me why I was leaving. I was vague enough as not to burn any bridges but specific enough that his head might have come about an inch out of his ass. Still, I highly doubt it will change anything. Then he very half-heartedly tried to "convince" me to stay, all the while talking about how it doesn't matter because I've already made my decision. Well, yes. So very true.

Now, not to toot my own horn, but I really can't picture this place functioning non-chaotically without me. I monitor just about everything that comes in and out of this office and I will have to leave a long list of directions for the duration. Poor bastards.

Friday, June 24, 2005

I have to admit that I really lost my shit last night. It wasn't pretty and there was much incoherent blubbering and desparate phone calls involved. I'm holding on by a very thin thread this morning. My current job makes me so miserable (I know, I know...waaaaaaaaaah). I don't want you all thinking I'm just a miserable piece of shit all the time. I'm really not. Just when I'm here...and I only write when I'm here lately. The thought of going home and getting on my computer there makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a dull implement, so I'd rather not.

With that said, I want to thank those of you who have posted comments, listened to my bitching, laughed AND cryed with me and just over all rule. Just when I get so discouraged and think there are too few good people left in the world, there you all are, shiny and happy and ready with overflowing encourgement. *sniff* A special thanks to The Momma, who listened and reassured last night better than any therapist could.

In current news, I have yet another phone interview at 2pm today with some head honcho from HR about THE JOB. I'm hoping that this will be the last of it. I spoke with my cousin (one of my saviors yesterday) and she reassured me that many companies are this "thorough" and she went through a similar experience herself. Good. Because I was really starting to think that I was going from one hellish experience to another.

I'm going away to the western depths of Massachusetts this weekend. For all of you not from this sparkling state, The West is a completely different world from The East. Worcester is NOT West, it's CENTRAL, and anything east of Worcester is EASTERN. I know it isn't a big state, but rules are rules. I'll be visiting some sexy girls who I haven't seen in quite some time. It will be THE BALLS (as long as I don't get eaten by a westernite or a bear).

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Before I get into my topic of the day, I just want to say that I should hear today or tomorrow about THE JOB. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you're obviously not a regular reader, so please become one.

Oh, and someone in the office is wearing a t-shirt from Meatloaf's 1996 World Tour. I'm just saying.

Anywho...I found the following pictures of Courtney Love today and was quite taken aback. She usually looks like a complete coked out mess, but these are out of control hideous. This is also my new favorite website. Thanks to whoever the guy is that writes that stuff.

There could only be one possible good thing to come out of this. It may mean that Courtney has finally laid off of the drugs and replaced them with ice cream and submarine sandwiches (and gotten rid of her mirrors) which I would prefer to see her do. However, even a lady with a little meat on her bones and a gagillion dollars could pull herself together better than this. Standing next to the most orange person on earth can't help either. It's not that I even want to make fun of her. It's more that I'm embarrassed for her. Where this empathy for a completely insane person comes from is unknown. I am ovulating.

Monday, June 20, 2005

I went out on Friday night only had three drinks and still managed to have more fun than I've had at a small, loud, crowded, viciously hot (as in: "I've sweat half of my body weight" hot) downtown Boston bar in quite some time. One problem: It was SO loud, that my ears haven't stopped ringing...and ringing...and ringing.

This scares me slightly because it's never happened before. Sure, I've been to loud concerts and even louder birthday parties for small children, but I've never experience actual pain in my ears from the noise. It's freaking me out.

Successful Recruiting Firm #1 finally called me on Friday to let me know that they are "still in the process of reviewing my status" and need to call another reference this week. It's slightly unsettling because here I was bragging about what a great company they are, how efficient and well thought out their hiring process is, and they can't even get it together to call my most relevant reference in the two weeks that I've given them the name three times. Maybe I can use this as a way to get a sweeter offer. Something like "I feel like you have incompetent people working for you and that is quite unsettling to me as I want to work for and with capable, non-retarded people who don't fuck shit up. But if you give me $10k more a year, I'll consider it."

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Tomorrow will be a week since my second interview, and I still have yet to hear from Successful Recruiting Company #1.

I'm starting to get a complex and I'm a complete mess. If you hadn't guessed, I am the most impatient person to ever wait in line at CVS (enough with the rain checks!), go shopping at the mall during Christmas (I would rather eat poo) or wait for anyone (usually stupid boys) to call me back. I'm an instant gratification and control junkie.

In the past six days, I have cleaned out my tax files (yep, TAX files), my closet (including shoes and sweaters), my photos since age 12, vacuumed my room (three times); scrubbed the ceiling in my bathroom (yes, the ceiling), the garbage can in the kitchen (twice), the inside and outside of the stove; cleared out all of the crap under my bed, detailed my car with a box of Q-tips and single-handedly run myself ragged. I can't sit still and I can't think about anything else.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

I would never belittle someone of their beliefs. I actually wish I believed in some sort of faith, only because I respect the amount of commitment and faith that goes into these things. Everyone will believe what they want to believe and that's that.

With that said, I think Tom Cruise is a complete nut job. A direct quote: "People go for help but their lives don't get better because of these drugs. They get worse. They feel numb and they're told that's a good thing. It's becoming like Huxley's Brave New World. It's like what the English did to China with opium [in the 19th century]. How is this different? It's how you degrade a society — by drugging the piss out of it."

Now, I take personal offense to this. To a certain extent, our society is overly medicated. This is true. However, depression is a disease and is treated as such. It's been proven time and time again by experts and more experts. Just like a diabetic has to take insulin, a truly afflicted depressed person has to take medication to function properly. Period.

Another direct quote: "Look at the experimentation the Nazis did with electric shock and drugging. Look at the drug methadone. That was originally called Adolophine. It was named after Adolf Hitler..." Really Tom? REALLY? See, here I was thinking this was all a bunch of hooey. Oh wait...WAIT. That's because IT IS. Get a grip, dude.

I in no way mean to degrade a belief system, but Scientology preys on the weak. It's a friggin cult. It's funny how I never really gave Tom Cruise a second thought until he publically declared he's a complete crazy. But know what? He does it because he can. Even if he never made another movie, he's set for life.

Either that, or one of the Boiling Points camera guys is going to jump out from behind one of the faux office plants at any second.

My "supervisor" showed up to work extremely high out of her mind on god knows what today. You may think I'm exaggerrating or perhaps trying to entertain myself by spinning a tale (usually the case), but I'm not. She is literally sitting at her desk, cocked out of her mind, and presently recording an outgoing voicemail message that says today is June 1st. Let's not also forget to mention that her mouth is covered with dry white crust. Doesn't that mean she's on meth or something? I can't keep up.

She has finally left the building, but not before she printed out several emails of her own for me to "follow up on" which were dated back in February.

Monday, June 13, 2005

God, I know I know. This blog has been so low quality lately. It saddens me to think I may have let some of you down or perhaps ruined some lives. I know I can't make up for lost time but I'll sure as hell try.

I've been busy lately, busy and thoughtful. So much has changed in the past couple of months, and for the better. I'm so thankful that everything has started to turn around and things really just keep getting better. It's so refreshing and I'm actually...happy.

I had a second interview on Friday for Successful Recruiting Firm #1. It went very well and now I am waiting. Waiting for an email or a phone call or some sort of sign that they will not only offer me the job, but also offer me enough money to make me content. I know I nailed the interview and I know that I could kick some serious ass for the company. So I continue to wait...and wait...and wait.

I had a fantastic weekend. The beach was crawling with hoochie mamas and hot boys...and cute puppies. Lots of puppies. I want a puppy.

Despite the fact that Hell has come to New England, I'm doing my best to beat the heat. My present "job" seems merely a waste of my time lately, time that could be better spent hanging out, cleaning something, organizing my personal files or balancing my checkbook. It borders on pathetic how little I care for what currently occurs in my professional life. Let's all cross our fingers and hope against all hope that all of this is about to change.

I haven't been watching television. Not even Hell's Kitchen, which I really thought I could get into. I've been spending less time by myself, which I like. I've been outside more. My cheeks are rosier and I have a glow about me. Personally, I think it's my recently whiter teeth but others seem to think it's more than that. It's almost better than being in love, and being loved back. It's feeling connected to myself which hasn't happened in quite some time.

Tomorrow, The Doll turns the big 6-0. He's taking the day off (sweet!), so his extremely elderly parents are bringing in a cake for him today as a "surprise." Apparently they do something similar every year. My sister makes me a cake every year, but she never brings it into work. And she also isn't 100 years old. However, this does mean that I get to eat cake today. That's never a bad thing.

Since I am so obsessed with the cleanliness of my bathroom, I almost wet myself when I found out about the Clorox Band Wand.

I love cleaning my tub, but I always thought there had to be an easier way than getting down on my hands and knees, straining myself to reach every knook and cranny.

With this amazing product, I put the handle together in two easy steps and just wet the pad. The ease of the process left me starry-eyed. I stood and cleaned my tub, without having to stretch first or actually get in it.

I just love it. I bought it yesterday and couldn't wait to use it. So when I got home last night at 10pm, I went to work. Then I took a shower and it was just so sparkly. I even cleaned the tile ceiling that covers the shower!

Monday, June 06, 2005

I've decided to start a couple of installments of writing I've done. It's not great by any stretch of the imagination, but it's therapeutic for me so enjoy and feel free to comment. It's not intended to make sense to anyone but me so keep that in mind.My fingers glided quickly across the keyboard, each stroke bringing me closer to the point of no return. I didn't want to take any of it back or second guess myself. I typed blindly, from the heart. I didn't want to apologize to anyone, especially myself. This was the second time in two weeks that I had told someone that my life would be better without them.

I'm not sure if I was ever in love with Jared. He fought me on it because he knew he couldn't love me back. Not now, and perhaps not ever. Falling in love was the next step. He was constantly pulling me in and pushing me away. There was unending evaluation and re-evaluation and I always felt under scrutiny, so frightened of making a ruinious mistake.

I had fanticized about our life together for over a year and did not want it to fail. I needed him to love me and I needed him to fill a void that had been left by years of emotional neglect. If I could just get him to say those three words, I would be cured. I would not be alone or unloved anymore. It was so simple. I became so determined that it didn't matter how miserable our relationship made me. He was looking for something, too but neither of us knew what he wanted. I wanted so badly to be for him what I needed from him. I grappled and wrestled and struggled until I realized it needed to stop. I was the only one with the answers.

I was beyond feeling lost and beyond feeling tired. I was floating in and out of consciousness but still going through the motions. Everyday started to get a little easier than the one before but I still felt numb. The guilt started to creep in after the anger faded away and I sought out reassurance as if I was desperatly trying to understand myself. It took me weeks to realize how much it hurt and how I still hadn't healed from all those years ago.

I'm not sure when I started to care so little for myself. The utter disregard I had for myself was astounding. I would never treat another human being with such loathing, but I continued to exact that punishment on myself. I took no pride in my eduation or accomplishments. It mattered little that I had graduated in 4 years despite a crippling depression and dropping out of college in the midst of my freshman year. I hated that I had anything to be proud of. I didn't deserve to be happy.

At some point in my childhood, I had failed to learn that a mistake or lasp in judgment was almost always forgiveable. Faults were faults and perfection was without them. My mother felt that I was a perfect child and I still try to live up to her expectations. It is consuming and tiring, leaving very little room for error. I have internalized her wishes and replaced her prescense with them.

I have always had this drive to know all of the answers. There are bits of information that I've collected as defense for potentional debates. I'm obsessed with being prepared because perhaps my preparedness would hide how little I thought of myself. My insecurity ran deep, and if I could prevail in any situation, the resulting temporary confidence would fool and confuse everyone, including me.

Apparently I couldn't keep up this whole "nothing to complain about" charade for very long. Who was I kidding? Only myself, I'm sure. There's quite a bit of lost time to make up for, here.

ONCE AGAIN, I am single handedly holding down the fort here at Meaningless Advertising Company and as soon as I walked in this place, I turned into a raging bitch. Apparently my task today is to relay updates from the Land of the Obvious. I don't want anyone to talk to me. It's going to be a long day.

Second Job Interview for successful recruiting firm #1 is on Friday. I had to take the whole day off from this hell hole because it will be four hours of job shadowing plus a two hour interview with the Area Manager. I'm not sure if I really want this job or if I want to hold out for something that pays even MORE money. But then I think I'm getting greedy. I'm only 24, after all. Slow it down!

I had a great weekend. I'm a shiny, happy person when I'm not here. Cross my heart.

Friday, June 03, 2005

I know, I know. I haven't written in quite some time. I'm sorry, I really am. I have no good excuse.

Things are really good. It's just that I really have no news. I've been really busy at work this week and haven't had time to read EW obsessively or make up funny stories for you or complain about anything. There isn't all that much to complain about it, actually.